


so wait up

by agletbaby



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Datekou Week, Gen, go go let's go let's go datekou
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-26
Updated: 2015-05-26
Packaged: 2018-04-01 06:51:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4010053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agletbaby/pseuds/agletbaby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sakunami prepares for his first official match with Datekou.</p><p>Written for Datekou Week day 1.</p>
            </blockquote>





	so wait up

When he walks onto court, Sakunami feels frozen. The air has been made heavy by cheers, and he assumes the worst: that they're for the other team. It doesn’t take him long to discern “Datekou” from the mess of noise, but for a moment he is close to turning on his heel and retreating. Then he hears the rhythm, knows that it’s for them, and he can walk again, following his team, unconsciously falling into time with the shouts of support as they make their way to the court underneath their ‘Iron Wall’ banner.

The cheering doesn't subside as the team begins to warm up – if anything, the sound intensifies, so it feels like Datekou is the only team there, even though there are five others playing in the gym at the same time and even more waiting their turn in the stands. Sakunami is glad he isn’t one of them, and not just for school pride related reasons. The mood is decisively in Datekou’s favour. Certainly, the glances they receive from the team on the court next to them aren't happy, and Sakunami can sympathise. His middle school had been small, with scarcely enough players to fill the bench, and so the mass of support seems somewhat incomprehensible. But he’s no longer an underdog, struggling against far better teams. He’s at Datekou now, and it’s his first official match, on the first day of Interhigh, and people want them to win.

He’s aware he’s lucky to be on the team. “You’ll probably have to be our starting libero,” Moniwa had said, coming up to Sakunami after their first practice looking almost apologetic, as though actually getting to play is going to be an inconvenience. “It’s a lot of pressure, but – well, to be honest, we don’t get a lot of short players bothering to apply to a team known for its blocks.” Moniwa isn’t all that tall himself, but then Sakunami remembers the boy stood next to him during the introductions declaring himself to be one hundred and ninety one centimeters tall before even giving his name (it was Koganegawa; they walk home together now), and gives a firm nod in understanding. Moniwa is about to smile, but another thought must occur to him, because his expression switches suddenly, and he looks flustered. “That’s not to say you’re not good, or that you’re only playing because there’s no alternative,” he says quickly, hands waving, expression verging on frantic. “You’ve been playing really well today. I think you’ll do fine.”

Sakunami has been doing fine. He’d been doing fine yesterday, and when he’d woken up this morning, and on the bus getting here. He thinks of himself as a dependable person, as is required for the position of libero, and so he’s been emphasising his lack of nerves, and how totally fine he is. He really, really ought to be fine. He’s been putting in the practice. He knows he’s done as much as he can. But then, has he? There’s a lot of people cheering, and he’ll be letting all of them down too if he messes up, which is a train of thought he tries to stop before it can develop, but he doesn’t quite succeed. He attempts diverting it: it’s all the more incentive to do well, but that doesn’t help either.

They’ve finished stretching, and so Sakunami moves to the other side of the net, as the rest of the team practice offence. He's receiving their spikes, or at least, he's trying to. He’s only reacting a second more slowly than usual, but that doesn't help when the ball's already hit the floor, even though his fingertips are mere millimeters away. He thinks vaguely that the fact he’s missing shows how strong his team is, but it’s a poor excuse, and one the crowd doesn’t seem aware of. They cheer for each smooth strike sent over the net, but if he fails to receive it, there is a lull in the sound, near imperceptible - perhaps non-existent - but magnified by the dread Sakunami already feels. He gets one of Futakuchi’s, only for it to reel off his hands at an angle and bounce sadly out of bounds, and he feels like he deserves the angry look he gets from the spiker. He’s sure it's an angry look, although it is, admittedly, a little hard to read.

Sakunami is still unsure what to make of Futakuchi, and whilst he’s now knows that Aone doesn’t mean anyone any harm, they haven’t actually had a conversation. He’s more comfortable with Obara, who sometimes practices passes with him at lunchtime, and he often assists Moniwa in teaching Koganegawa to set, sending haphazardly aimed balls back to the taller boy. But he hasn’t really interacted much with the other third years, and they haven’t spent much time together as a team, not outside of the sporadic practice matches, punctuated by arguments, that they’d crammed in as today loomed closer. He likes his teammates, really, but he’s not sure if they’re the faultless unit he expects a truly good team to be. Or maybe it’s just him who feels like that. He is the only first year, a hasty addition.

He misses another three receives and two more go spinning off in unreachable directions before the call comes to line up.

Sakunami moves as quickly as he can into his place facing the net. He’s on the end, next to Sasaya. Yet again, the Datekou cheers seem to expand, and with them Sakunami’s nerves. This is it. They’re facing their supporters, and – having bowed to the opposite team, whilst waiting for Moniwa to decide whether or not they’ll have the first serve – he scans them. Koganegawa, not yet skilled enough for a place on the bench, is yelling out the cheer, although he stops when he sees Sakunami looking in order to wave; he is apparently unable do both at once. He then loses the rhythm and shouts “Go!” a beat too late, earning himself a glare from his neighbor.

Sakunami looks away, amused but unwilling to show it, in case it looks unprofessional. He’s been reminded of something. He knows why he’s been practicing so much with Koganegawa, returning his clumsy passes and sets and those dump shots he insists on doing. The fact has been dancing at the back of his mind all day, in between pep talks and cheers. He knows that this is the third years’ last tournament and that next time, they’ll be the stands too. He glances up at Sasaya, who looks unperturbed, but Sakunami is sure he isn’t.

These thoughts bring with them a rush of determination, which is enough to flatten down the nervousness; not gone, but no longer overwhelming. This could be the last time that these starters face the net and, with the possibility of an end now heavy above him, Sakunami feels closer to his teammates than ever before. He doesn’t want to stop playing with them, doesn't want anyone to have to stop, and that's enough to make them his team. They’re all fighting for the same thing; to win, and play on. And it’s not just the players lined up to his right, Sakunami realises, but those watching too. The noise filling the gym isn’t for him, or Sasaya, or Moniwa as he returns with the result of the coin toss. It’s not for any individual.

  
It’s for the team. His team. And they're the team that's going to win.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for day 1 of Datekou week, for which the prompt was first years/sound. So I did both. Day 1 was technically yesterday, but I'm only an hour late...  
> This is the all I'll be writing for the week, but check the tumblr for more fic and art and stuff about the (best) team: hqdatekouweek.tumblr.com
> 
> The title is a lyric from Wait Up (Boots of Danger) by Tokyo Police Club, so check that out too.


End file.
